On The Move.

But nothing really new there.

Four days seems to be the going rate for how long I can stay put in one place. As much as I tried to give Pokhara more time, my Dslr was getting dusty from lack of use. There's just not enough to keep me entertained photo wise in these touristy areas.

I find that decisions are made and changed over a cup of chai while travelling solo, my eyes open in the morning and my bags are either packed in a flurry or left to sit for one more day. I'm in a constant state of flux while on the road, and this sense of freedom at my finger tips feels so exhilarating it's pretty much the sole reason I head off on these adventures.

My next destination involves me meeting up with a rickshaw driver. The thing is he doesn't know me and I don't know him, heck he doesn't even know I'm coming. When our eyes do meet a mutual agreement will be made to see who breaks first, but little does he know it's not my first rodeo in his homeland.

I'm leaving Nepal and crossing overland into India, more specifically to the holy city of Varanasi. I was just there 18 months prior wandering the ghats trying to enjoy a place which had occupied my travel dreams for the better part of a decade, but I wasn't in the right mind set at the time to properly absorb just what Varanasi had on offer, it was one of my biggest regrets of my last trip to India.

For anyone who reads these posts or has a good memory, about a week prior to visiting Varanasi I made one of the dumbest decisions of my life on a train ride. Complacency got the best of me and I had everything of value stolen in one misstep of judgement. It broke me mentally and even a bit financially; I let the bad guys win and it ruined my trip to one of the most fascinating cities on Earth.

But that was then and a lot has changed with me since. I'm so excited to be returning to Varanasi that those pre trip butterflies have resurfaced, the same ones that were fluttering away almost 2 months prior when I first departed on this current trip. But to leave one place a farewell must be said to another.

They say you come for the mountains but return for the people regarding Nepal. The countless smiles, beautiful faces, and friendly hospitality I experienced definitely lived up to this mantra, but when I return it'll be for both. My 3 week trek through the Himalayas was the shining highlight of my time spent here; the mountain scenery and village hospitality went hand in hand to create one of the most awe inspiring and friendly experiences of my travels. Yet again I find myself bidding a momentary farewell to a country that I know I'll return to in the future. After all I did say the same thing when I left India last June and look at me now.

Feels good to deliver on hard promises.

Until next time Nepal!

Bhaktapur and Boudhanath

Some relax time was in order after my time spent in the mountains. A chance to rest these sore knees and gain some weight back...perhaps enjoy a nice espresso or 3.

Bhaktapur and Boudhanath were my targets- a place to escape the trekking touts and hash dealers of Thamel. They might have been swapped for persistent pashmina salesmen and tenacious tour guides, but it's a good trade off in my books.

Asia's biggest stupa Boudhanath offered a great place to soak in some Buddhist energy. The hundreds of monks chanting while making their paces around the stupa emulated some of the most intense religious energy I've experienced since my time in India. I stayed 2 nights in the Shechen Monastery which runs a guesthouse operation. My freshly shaved head and dark complexion had a few faces wondering where my orange robe was, but being stared at is nothing new to me at this point.

On the other end of the religious spectrum there's Bhaktapur-a living, breathing, medieval city with ancient Hindu temples scattered amongst the fortress like grounds. The guide book had me at 'a place to wander around aimlessly'. I find this goes fantastic with my two favourite past times of eating street food and taking photographs.

I'm just over a month into this adventure, and ever since I finished the trek time seems to be racing away. I've been reading up on news back home and noticed the first snow fall is on the horizon, and in a few weeks it's Christmas time? Feels odd even saying that word. I did a haphazard search around Vancouver before leaving to see if I could track down a Santa hat to wear around India for the holidays, but it was to no avail. I could have one tailor made from Yak wool I suppose. Come to think of it I just might do that.

It's been a fascinating last week in Nepal. Election fever is in the air as the country goes to the polls for only the 2nd time in its history. One of the frequent transportation bandhas (strikes) was called for in the week leading up to election day, which made transportation a bit of a hassle, but I was in no mood to stray too far from my 90 cent espressos in Bhaktapur anyways!

Manaslu and Tsum Valley Trek

I wasn't sure if trekking was for me, but instead of dipping my toes in to see how the water was I cannon balled into the deep end with a 3 week long trek.

Escape the crowds, get off the beaten path, and visit some down right remote areas of Nepal. These were my thoughts for choosing this particular trek -the Manaslu and Tsum Valley Circuit. It's a restricted area trek requiring permits, guides, and a bit of red tape; which thankfully keep the hordes of trekkers like the 10 000 or so that hike the Everest Base Camp trek every October to a minimum.

I've never been challenged more both physically and mentally in my life. But with sacrifice comes reward, and the rewards reaped from this adventure won't soon be forgotten. Not even close.

How can I describe how cold it was some nights? The water bottle next to my sleeping bag froze solid one night in Dharmsala, a ramshackle outpost of tents and stone walled rooms, your last "guesthouse" before crossing the 5160m Larke Pass.

If I said I was awoken by mice crawling over my sleeping bag more than once you'd think I was nuts.....that's a vacation? Damn right it is. The veranda of the Gumba Lundang monastery I slept in made up for the uninvited creepy crawlers, as did the back drop of the Ganesh Himal range which occupied my field of vision like an Imax screen. A 7400m range of jagged rock and ice that seemed so close you couldn't help but wave your hand in front of your face to try and touch it.

The majority of this trek takes you along the Beri river, up and down precarious stone pathways with hundred meter sheer drops next to you seemingly the entire time. We added on an 8 day permit to trek the restricted area called Tsum Valley, a beautiful stretch of fertile land curtained on both sides by 6000m peaks. 'Tsum' comes from the Tibetan word 'Tsombo', which simply means 'Vivid'. It's a pretty fair word to describe this area of Nepal I reckon. Even a violent bout of food poisoning didn't deter me from enjoying this valley full of friendly Tibetan villages and wild pot plants as far as the eye could see.

In a rather extended chat with a couple of young villagers toiling their fields, I couldn't help but ask what they were growing. The almost perfectly lined seedlings of marijuana sprouting from the parched dry earth was my main reason for asking.

"Barley!" he said.

"You like Ganza?"  He replied with a chuckle.

Now the conversation was going the direction I wanted.

Long story short, I asked what their views were towards the plant, and whether or not they smoked the stuff. In a nutshell he told me as a kid their parents always told them not to, it was always said to be wrong - 'very bad stuff' were his words. To my surprise he also strung together a phrase in broken English that I immediately understood and related to; that being the irony of home brewed Raksi (rice/barley wine) and cheap booze flooding the valley from the nearby border of China run Tibet caused more problems than marijuana could ever do.

No matter how far away from home you are, some things just don't change.

This was my first ever over night trek, and I can't help but feel a bit of pride completing 20 damn days straight of it. Although the majority of it wasn't exactly in high altitude conditions, I like to think I did -even if only for a day- walk in the shoes of a real mountaineer. Crossing the Larke Pass requires at least 7-8 hours, and you don't want to be caught at 5200m in November anytime in the late afternoon. So that means lacing up your boots and walking in the blistering cold & ungodly hour of 4:30am. I might as well have been climbing Everest for that 90 mins before the sun came up; I actually thought my nose was going to fall off from frost bite.

I gained a new appreciation for a sport that no one really acknowledges- Mountaineering. These super humans who do this in exponentially worse conditions than I was subjected to are the toughest of the tough as far as I'm concerned, because I sure as hell don't ever want to experience that level of cold again!

Crossing the last suspension bridge into Dharapani, 19 days after setting foot on the trail, my eyes locked onto the first motorised vehicle I had seen in almost 3 weeks. I yelled at the top of my lungs in glee, the trek was finally over. In another 24 hours I'd be in a jeep back into civilisation.

Fast forward a few days, I now realise the bitter part of my sweet ending takes a little time to settle in. I'm back in Kathmandu dodging motorbikes, inhaling exhaust fumes, and telling touts to leave me alone.

As much as I wanted the trek to just be over, I'm already day dreaming of my next one. Not before I see what else this country has on offer though :)